


Hardlines

by steevee



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Dissociation, Gen, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, sort of age regression but like in a dissociative way not. The Other Way, takes place post charles death and post ikea trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 18:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11973237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steevee/pseuds/steevee
Summary: The band goes to Target during renovations. Toki dissociates.





	Hardlines

"Why does we haves to do this, again?" Skwisgaar's wry voice drawled out from a little ways behind Toki's shoulder, slow as molasses and twice as bored. Rattling wheels and grubby suburban families clattered behind the band while they stood idle in front of a small army of red plastic carts, all folded into long trains. Nathan shook the lastmost cart free with his big fists and wheeled it before the rest of them, dwarfing the shopping cart under his massive shadowy presence.

"Because nobody managed to actually _buy_ anything at IKEA, and now we're out of fucking food, too. This place has both." Nathan squared his shoulders like a general relaying orders to his troops, or a football player in the middle of a huddle. Toki didn't really watch sports or know anything about the military, but he imagined that was how both things worked. In his mind Nathan fit the bill, anyway.

"Pickles, you're with me on food." He made eye contact with each of them as he issued their directives. "Murderface, you get... I dunno, toilet paper and shit. Make yourself useful. Toki and Skwisgaar, same as last time." Upon reaching them, Nathan's eyes lingered and flashed an unmistakable message: _and don't have a breakdown this time, for the love of god._

"Ja, ja, no needs to be remindings us." Skwisgaar was already blowing Nathan off to saunter down the white linoleum path, which lightened Toki's spirit considerably. Last time was a fluke, the result of having bottled up their feelings over everything that had happened until they boiled over into a mess of semi-public mutual sobbing. There would be no bleary eyes or desperate attempts to console each other in this new store, which, at not even half the size of the sprawling IKEA, was hardly intimidating anyway.

Skwisgaar's boots tapped faintly further away.

"We gots it! This times we'll come back with a real cool lamp!" Toki chirruped and jogged to catch up with him a few paces ahead, since he seemed to know where he was going already. (Pickles' shout of _"get more than one!"_ went tragically ignored.)

The path took them around the perimeter of the store, starting at the ladies' swimsuit display and leading all the way through the clothes section and between the parallel kingdoms of electronics and children's toys. The place's cozy red and white ambiance tickled at the back of his scalp, something both comforting and oddly distracting emanating from the way the square lights reflected on the tiles in the same shade of white, how the constant clamor of other shoppers murmured in his ears.

The toy aisles manifested themselves in rectangular bursts of color: dark blue, pink, yellow, then an eruption of erratically arranged rainbow that pulled his eyes in two different directions. One of them landed on a row that caught his attention in particular.

"Oh, looks at those," he chimed, peeking into the line of bulky and brightly painted toy planes. They cast funny, cartoonish silhouettes compared to the models he had at home, all round and clunky and obviously meant for little children.

"Pssh," Skwisgaar lingered and looked with him, quirking up an eyebrow. "What ams you needing those for? Did alls your littles babies toys burns up in the fire?"

Come to think of it, a good number of them had. Toki tongued at his bottom lip from the inside of his mouth in thought. Not that he wanted the baby ones- those were just cute- but he could practically see an Amazon cart full of new models scrolling past his eyes already. Shooting him an incredulous look, Skwisgaar shrugged and placed one long hand on his shoulder.

"Maybes you ask Nathans for them later, after we's finished our lamps mission. You doesn't want to be playing planes in the dark, eh, Toki?" Having made his point, he slid his hand down to Toki's bicep and angled him back to the path.

"Yeah, you's right. I guess not," he agreed glumly. It occurred to him that after renovations they might not even _have_ any money for planes, considering the budget was tight enough to force them here in the first place. Something prodded his arm- Skwisgaar's hand- towing him forward, guiding past the flashing array of screens (he caught glimpses of a Dethklok music video on a few) and stammering employees jolted out of their day-to-day by the appearance of their favorite musicians. Like wandering into a fog, the domestic static swallowed up his mind again as they meandered along.

Further in the aisles split down the middle to form an intersection in the path, the middle of which was occupied by a large display arranged to mimic some kind of plain, girly looking living room. Toki noticed at least four differently patterned throw pillows strewn around the modern furniture. More importantly, there were lamps. None of them were exactly _metal_ , but...

"Euh," Skwisgaar wrinkled his nose, and he couldn't help but agree.

"This looks like a ladies magazine threws all up on a table," Toki commented, feeling more lucid now that they'd found their mark. He realized that Skwisgaar was no longer steering him or touching him at all- instead he had drifted toward a floor lamp with about a million (or five) lamp heads that curled out on thick ribbed stems from the middle in all directions.

"You can says that again." While Skwisgaar fiddled with the poseable lamp-stalks, Toki looked over the rest of what the display had to offer. Boring and cylindrical, made him think about suicide again (he quickly tamped _those_ feelings down), a metal sign with lights in it that spelled out 'JOY'- unbrutal, another behind it in the same fashion but 'PEACE'- even worse, and _holy shit what is THAT._

From the top it looked like a normal, boring ass lamp. But beneath the shade, where there would be a normal metal pole, there was instead a bronzed unicorn horn that attached to a ceramic bust of the very same equine creature, all coated so that it gleamed golden under the store lights.

"Ohhh, Skwisgaar," he gasped, gravitating toward the shelf. "We has to get this ones. Or- or this ones!" Toki grabbed both the unicorn lamp and one next to it, of the same design but featuring a green dinosaur. "Maybe we gets both! Ones for my room and ones for yours if you wants, or--"

"Eehhuueh," Skwisgaar said. "I don't thinks dat--"

Toki didn't hear the rest of his sentence, because he'd already found something else. A domed alarm clock in the shape of a green hill with a tunnel that a small plastic train passed through when he slammed the 'Try Me!' button.

He laughed, delighted, and went about positioning it between the lamps in his arms.

After that there was a mounted stuffed bear head, and a piggy bank in the shape of a stegosaurus, and a squid that looked like it was made out of socks. They didn't all fit in his arms, but each one spurred something viscerally _wanting_ in him. Everything he saw he loved, and everything that he loved, he needed to have. Each rush thrilled him and pushed him on further. His desire led him on a path through the furniture aisles and wove between departments as it grew and grew. When his arms became too full, he was forced to abandon the lamps, the clock, the bank, and the mounted head. But that was alright- he'd come back for them later.

He hadn't felt like this in a while. Light and giddy, every little thing kicking up elation all bubbly in his chest. It felt like floating, compared to how he'd been muddling around earlier. At his side he found a clear plastic bin of bouncy balls, and swiped one for the road. The squid he relegated to one hand, using the other to bounce the ball in front of him, and continued along.

Whimsy brought him to an aisle filled with emerald green and deep yellow, smattered with other colors on boxes and logos. Toki recognized the brand from his crayon box at home. Immediately, he needed a new box. And oh, the colored pencils looked fun. More promising things hung on the shelves, too, indistinguishable for all the similar packaging, at least from where he stood in the main walkway.

As much as he felt pulled to the art supplies, something else itched at him. Where was... everyone?

He was alone, save for the squid and. Strangers, who weaved their carts around him like nothing was happening. No one noticed the world growing tenfold around him, leaving him small and helpless with a tight chest and racing heart. His ball bounced off under a shelf somewhere.

Where- where was his family? His band, Skwisgaar, his mother and father, his manager-- Toki clenched his fist and eyes shut, fighting back a desolate wail. Nobody could see that he needed help, why couldn't they see that? His stomach lurched, all the glee dropping away. Somehow he remained invisible and an eyesore at the same time, too big and too grown and too _wrong_ for everything.

Nobody would come for him. Nobody could help, or make sense of it all. Only Charles did that, and he was dead.

Someone tapped him on the back.

A high hope fluttered in his chest. At the sight of a familiar black tanktop, it fell to pieces.

"Toki?" Skwisgaar looked at him dumbly for a second, then went moon-eyed with surprise. His presence was enough. Toki threw himself at his chest, tossing the squid away and clutching at his bandmate instead, gasping into the collar of his v-neck and slopping hot wet tears on the both of them.

"Hey, don't- don't yous cry, or I ams goingks to cry too-- you knows this!" He tried to forewarn, much too late for Toki. An old lady wheeled her creaking cart around them. Skwisgaar placed his hands on Toki's back gently, and in exchange he knotted his fists in his tanktop. They stood like that for a while, Skwisgaar's hair sheltering the both of them as he mumbled and Toki hiccupped.

"Ams it the baby toys? Because, we can gets you a hundreds, after this concert--" Cue sob.

Skwisgaar winced. "Euh, and... uh... you amn't t'inkings about, euh-- killings yourself again, are yous?" Toki shook his head, feeling Skwisgaar's sigh of relief warm his forehead. "Then... dat's okay."

Another cart squeaked toward them, this one accompanied by a familiar clatter of footsteps and griping.

"Oh, hell," he heard Nathan's faint gravel.

"Schee! I told you we couldn't trusht 'em with it!" Murderface chuffed. Toki wiped his eyes and nose on the inside of his own shirt before he turned to look at them. Next to the cart, which was stuffed full of frozen dinners and Dorito bags, Murderface stood with three big metal torches. Closer inspection revealed them to be some kind of porch lamp, which he held triumphantly in the others' direction.

"And you tried to schtick me with tee-pee duty."


End file.
